


Things Change

by crestwood



Series: Things Change universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Depression, F/F, F/M, Humor, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 11:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18364820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crestwood/pseuds/crestwood
Summary: Scorpius Malfoy was a hedonistic misfit with friends to match. They put a lot of time and effort into preserving their reputation as Hogwarts' most unruly bunch.Little do they know there isactuallya lesson to be learned from it all.





	Things Change

**Act I: The Spacer**

 

This isn’t the story of Hogwarts’ golden child. This isn’t the story of the well liked Quidditch captain. Hell, this isn’t even the story of that quiet kid that you never realised was in the same year as you. While you and I might never have been friends, there is one thing I can guarantee: you noticed me.

 

The beginning of fifth year is as good a place to start as any. I was sitting cross legged in the grass next to my newest friend, Liam McLaggen. We looked out over the enormous, murky lake. Or rather, I did, while Liam mixed our drinks. Liam was kind of the kid your mother warned you about when you were young. 

 

He always had something up his sleeves. You’d be hard pressed for a dull moment in his presence. We were each terrors on our own, but together we were trouble personified. We did what we wanted without reservations and mostly got away with it too. It felt like the only thing that could stop us was us. 

 

“What’s in that?” I asked. 

 

Liam looked up at me for the first time since we got out there, obviously annoyed at being distracted from his work. “It’s Firewhiskey an’ pumpkin juice. This is a personal favourite of mine.” 

 

He handed me the goblet he’d poured for me. I nervously took it into my hands, but made no move to drink any. I had tried alcohol a handful of times, but I wasn’t exactly an experienced drinker. Funnily enough, the first time I ever tried the stuff, it was also at the encouragement of Liam. It was fourth year before he and I had become proper mates. I took one sip of that disgusting beer and spit it back out. I was hoping to play it a little cooler this time.

 

“You know this doesn’t taste half bad, all things considered.” 

 

“I told you I can mix drinks. I’ve been doing this stuff forever, kid.” He knew I hated being called that.

 

“Aw, shut up. Not all of us downed vodka in the womb.” 

 

“Yep, that’s me. Full blown alcoholic before I could walk,” he smirked.

 

I chuckled at my response before I could even get it out. “Liam, I’ve just had a breakthrough! Maybe you couldn’t walk because you were wasted out of your mind.”

 

“You’re fucking hilarious Scorpius, really,” his voice dripped with sarcasm. 

 

I laughed even harder than before and leaned back on the grass. I never understood why hardly anyone ever spent any time out there. I loved the Hogwarts grounds more than anyone. I couldn’t care less about having to take a few courses if it meant I could spend my evenings out there taking in the fresh air. The day was on its way out and Liam and I watched the sunset as we always loved to. 

 

As if he could hear my thoughts, Liam asked, “Man, how are we the only people around here who use the grounds?” 

 

“They’re probably studying  _textbooks_ ,” I scoffed. 

 

He threw his hands in the air. “I thought you bloody loved books!” 

 

“I love novels. I love to immerse myself in exciting, complex worlds that sprung entirely from the imagination of a human being. Textbooks are just tools for people who need help learning.” 

 

“And you don’t?” he raised his eyebrows at me. 

 

“Absolutely not. Even if I did need to read a textbook to help me with something, I could check that out of a library. I don’t need someone to explain the stuff I just read.”  

 

“You’re such a funny git. I’d like to see how you’d fare with exams if you never showed up for lessons.”

 

“Everything sounds dumb taken out of context,” I said.

 

“And yet, what you said sounded dumb in or out of it. I think-” 

 

I never found out what he thought because I lunged at him and socked him one good time in the arm before he could get it out.

 

Liam stood up with an evil grin across his face. “You  _fucking_ little bugger.” I tried to take off but I stumbled a little getting up and that was just enough for him to catch me from behind. He crashed into my back and tackled me to the ground. He had me pinned, face down on the grass and he was laughing maniacally with his knee digging into my spine. While he gloated, I sharply elbowed his side and he fell dramatically onto the ground beside me. I slammed my weight on top of him like those Muggle wrestlers and held him down for the count. At three, I got up and allowed him to collect himself. 

 

“Why were you counting? We’re fighting to the death and you’re practicing your integers,” he mocked. 

 

He seemed pleased with his joke, so I didn’t care to spoil it with an explanation of Muggle sporting events. Sometimes I’d forget how little Muggle culture translated around some wizards. I always thought Muggle studies should’ve been compulsory. At least so those morons would have known what a toaster is.  

 

“You wanna have a fly before we go back up?” 

 

“Obviously. I think I remembered to put the Quaffle in my bag before we left…” he rummaged for his ball so we could play a quick one on one game. 

 

“Found it! Let’s go.” He ran over to his broom and kicked off into the sky. 

 

I picked mine up and did the same. Nothing matched the pure exhilaration I felt when I soared higher and higher into the night sky. I whipped in a spiral, gripping my broom tightly as I inverted upside down. Liam and I usually decided to act as both Chaser and Keeper on our respective sides of the pitch. 

 

He started the game, taking off for my goal posts, while I shot after him. I bumped into him with my shoulder as we sped through the air. He turned his broom upwards and dodged me as I attempted to strip him of the Quaffle. I turned on an extra burst of speed in retaliation and made it to my own goal before he could line up his shot. 

 

He looked disappointed for a second before that look was replaced by determination. Suddenly, he jerked to the right and rose his hand to take a shot. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t fall for his all too obvious trick and stayed firmly in front of the middle goalpost, which helped me out when he ultimately threw the Quaffle toward the leftmost goalpost, as he had intended to from the start. 

 

I hurtled in that general direction and saved the goal with ease. Without wasting a second, I took off across the field, already with a head start before he’d even realised he hadn’t scored. I flew all the way over to his side and placed a well aimed Quaffle into his goalpost. I heard curses all the way from midfield. 

 

He caught up to me a moment later. “Hey, you may have scored on me, but on the bright side, at least I’m not a  _serious_ Quidditch player,” he said with extra scorn in his pronunciation of the word serious. 

 

“You can say that again. Fuck Quidditch players!” I yelled. 

 

Liam burst into laughter and bellowed in a booming voice that must have been heard all throughout the castle. “Hear, Hear! Fuck Quidditch players!”

 

Lately Liam and I had taken to finding ourselves exploring the castle on some of our longer nights. We figured there was plenty we had yet to find out about the place and it appealed to our natures to get to the bottom of all those uncovered secrets.

 

Let’s go see what this gigantic castle has to offer,” he said. “You know, I found the kitchens one time.” 

 

“Like bloody hell you did.”

 

We walked back at a brisk pace as the night got increasingly frigid by the minute. 

 

We started up the staircase and somehow ended up prowling around those vacant seventh floor corridors that seemed to stretch on forever. Almost every one of the stone walls were lined with portraits that boasted some of the most detailed works of art you’d ever come across. 

 

In the frame nearest me, a young wizard held an apple, for some reason. His morose eyes followed me around. The next showcased a witch dressed in black, sitting on the shore of a body of water I recognised as The Great Lake here at Hogwarts. It felt strange to know that they’d never grow old. 

 

All of these lively painted people, all in a row. I watched as they argued, laughed, and gossipped.

 

“Hey, Liam. What do you think about Wizarding portraits?”  

 

“What about them?” He looked bewildered. 

 

“It’s just like, aren’t they a little strange?” 

 

He laughed. “What, are you tipsy?” 

 

“Yes. But that’s beside the point,” I pointed a picture of an Old Maid weeping. “Isn’t it bizarre how these paintings can feel and talk and all of that, but they’re doomed to live this existence inside of a frame?”

 

“I’ve never really thought about it...” He furrowed his brow.

 

“It’s odd to me. Weird little creatures stuck in a two dimensional world.”

 

Liam looked excited now. “You reckon they’ve witnessed some murders?” 

 

“Well, only the most important battle in living memory happened here. I can imagine they’ve seen a bloody murder.”

 

“Ha, literally.” He looked pleased with himself. 

 

I ignored him. “Have you got the time? It’s getting late.”

 

He stopped walking and looked me right in the eye. “Are you scared? Are you, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy--heir to the Malfoy legacy--scared to be out of bed past curfew? That’s a riot, really.” 

 

“I’m not scared. I just don’t have a great time in detention.” 

 

“Then the solution is quite simple…” he trailed off.

 

“And that’d be?”

 

“We don’t get caught.” 

 

I rolled my eyes at him. 

 

“I know, it’s revolutionary,” he said. 

 

“I wonder what you’ll say when you actually do come up with a decent idea.”

 

“I’ll go running through the Great Hall, screaming like hell, wearing your grandmum’s robes,” he joked. “Wait. Did you hear that?” 

 

“Hear wha-”

 

He cut me off with a quick shush. “Go. Go!” He pushed me down the corridor.

 

I tripped over my own feet sprinting after him. “Fuck are we running for?” I asked when I finally caught up.

 

“I heard Planke,” he rasped.

 

“This is bad.” The resident Hogwarts caretaker was known for his severe punishments, sharp wit and surprisingly quick feet. I took off much faster than before, my breath heavy and rapid. We weren’t about to slow down anytime soon. Many a student had underestimated his ability to corner a group of kids out after hours. 

 

We rounded the bend in some part of the castle we’d never seen. It felt like we’d never come across a room to flee into. My thoughts were focused on nothing but finding some way to escape.

 

_We need a place to hide from Planke._

_We need a place he can’t find us._

 

Suddenly, we heard footsteps echoing directly ahead. In a moment of panic, we doubled back the way we came. And again I was sure I could discern the sound of someone just around the corner. I felt my heartbeat quicken as I looked to Liam, hoping he had some bright idea. He looked as hopeless as I felt, eyes darting back and forth.

 

We were stuck in the middle of the corridor and changed course once again. I began to lose hope that we’d ever get out of this situation. 

 

And then, as if a direct answer to my pleas, it was there. All this time we’d been in such a hurry that we had somehow run straight past the first door we’d seen in ages.

 

Turning on a dime, we sprinted toward the room and threw ourselves inside. Liam closed the door as quietly as his anxiousness would allow and I held my breath, willing him to pass us by.

 

With our ears to the door, we heard him come pacing into the corridor a few seconds later. His footsteps stopped right outside of the room and we both cringed, knowing we were caught. Liam and I exchanged looks of pure terror. I could hear Planke’s ragged breathing just outside our hiding place. That moment seemed to stretch on forever as we waited for the inevitable. And then, he started walking again. I listened in shock as his footfall faded into the distance. I steadied my breath, sharing looks of relief and surprise with Liam.

 

We both calmed our tense bodies and sighed. It wasn’t every day that one managed to escape the pursuit of Planke. 

 

“I can’t believe we got out of that one, mate,” I paused for a second. “No really, I can’t believe it. Why didn’t he catch us?”

 

“What do you mean?” Liam looked confused. “We ran.” 

 

“When has that ever stopped him from catching anyone? Running and hiding in the first door you see is what happens literally every single time.” 

 

“You’re right...why’d we get away with this?” he pondered. “You think he’s losing it?” 

 

I shook my head gravely. “I wouldn’t even say that out loud for fear of him hearing.”

 

“You...you think maybe he couldn’t see the door?”

 

I looked back at him with a curious expression. 

 

“You know Hogwarts has loads of weird shit built into it. This room is something special,” he continued, excited. 

 

“Like what?” I raised my eyebrows.

 

“I know just what it is,” he grinned. “This is the Dashers’ Room.” 

 

“You just made that up.” 

 

“Yeah, I did. That’s what you do when you discover something,” he looked mock-offended. 

 

“And why’s it called that anyway?” 

 

“Because you’ve got to be running for it to open for you,” he carefully explained.

 

“I guess that’s as much in realm of possibility as anything. I’m gonna check this place out.”

 

We walked further into the chamber for the first time. It was one of the largest rooms I’d ever seen in the castle. The furniture looked comfortable, the bookshelves were stocked, and it seemed as though someone had been minding all of the upkeep. I had no idea what this place was for. I scanned a few of the titles on the shelf and took a step back in shock.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said out loud. 

 

“What is it?” said Liam, pacing over to me. 

 

“All of these are my favorites…” 

 

“Oh god, you and Al would be in heaven here, all these books,” he scowled.

 

“Where is Al anyway?” 

 

“I dunno. He’s off by himself a lot,” he shrugged.

 

“What is he, living a double life?” I asked. 

 

“Well I, for one, have never seen him and the Minister in the same place at the same time…”

 

“That’s technically true, only because you’ve never seen the Minister anywhere,” I said.

 

“I’ll have you know that the Minister and I are very close friends,” he deadpanned. “He was at my last birthday party.” 

 

“If that’s true, then Ernest Hemingway’s my dad’s third cousin.” 

 

“Is he? Who’s Ernest?” 

 

“Oh yeah, I forgot you don’t read, sorry. Thought I was talking to one of my cultured friends, my bad,” I said.

 

“You haven’t any other friends, so I know that’s a damn lie,” he grinned. 

 

I shot him a glare and went back to browsing the shelves. While I was examining the rest of the books, I caught a glimpse of something glistening just outside of my line of vision. I followed it upwards and got an eyeful of something I was certainly not expecting. 

 

“Liam, look up.” 

 

“Aren’t we a little old for those made-you-look jokes?” he grumbled. 

 

“Just do it,” I urged. 

 

He finally let his eyes drift up and immediately dropped his jaw. He looked at me, blinking rapidly and pointing toward the sight. 

 

“Is...is that a ceiling enchantment, like in the Great Hall?” he asked slowly.

 

“I think it is, mate.”

 

Liam had always called the ceiling of the Great Hall his favorite part of Hogwarts. If he could have, he’d probably have laid on top of the Slytherin table and just stared at it during meals.

 

“This is fucking awesome,” he said, eyes bulging. 

 

“You can finally stare at the night sky without freezing your arse off.”

 

“I love this room so much, mate. We’ve got to come back here all the time,” he said. 

 

“Of course. It was practically made for us.” 

 

“Maybe the Dashers’ Room wanted to impress us,” he joked. 

 

“We’ve officially been wooed by a sentient room.”

 

*

 

We arrived back in the dormitory to find it empty, save for Al, book in hands.

 

Liam couldn’t disguise his excitement. “You’ve got to see this room we just found!” 

 

I sifted through my trunk uncomfortably while Liam and Al spoke. Grabbing the crumpled letter that I’d stashed inside earlier that day, I decided to get it over with. Generally, I’d only ever gotten letters from one person: my mother. That’s most of the reason I had decided that reading it could definitely wait. I sucked it up and unfolded the parchment.

 

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Hello. I take it that you are settled in? I’m writing to let you know that your father and I expect much better marks this term. If you are to be a Malfoy, you are expected to uphold family values of valor, perseverance and intelligence. I would hate to be disappointed once again by your insolence and lazy behaviour. You are running out of chances to make us proud. I will be checking in with you periodically throughout the year. I trust this is the year some of this will sink in._

_Sincerely,_

_Mother._

 

Staring at the letter in disbelief, I shook my head. ‘Sincerely’ my arse. There wasn’t a sincere bone in that woman’s body. Bloody expectations of being a Malfoy could go to hell. My mother may have been kinder than my father, but at least he left me alone. My mother had convinced herself that I would wither away and die without her guidance. I’m surprised she ever allowed me to leave her sight long enough to go to Hogwarts.

 

Gripping my wand, I murmured, “ _Incendio_.” The flames crept across the parchment, crackling as they spread. I closed my eyes, allowing the radiating heat to wash over me. Within moments, a jet of water doused me and the rapidly growing inferno. I opened my eyes, searching for the source of my unexpected soak, clutching the damp letter in my fist.

 

“What was that for?” I spluttered. 

 

“You were holding a fucking burning piece of parchment!” 

 

I looked down at my hands. An angry stretch of shiny pink had erupted on my palms. I couldn’t feel the pain, but I knew it was there. I wondered how I could have been oblivious to the flames having contacted my skin. The collateral damage hadn’t even crossed my mind; I just knew I had to get rid of that letter. 

 

“What’s going on mate?” Liam said, sitting next to me. 

 

“Just was done with the letter,” I shrugged.

 

“Let me see your hands.” 

 

I reluctantly held them out for him, shooting glances over at Al to gauge his reaction to the situation unfolding. If he was paying attention, he was doing a good job of hiding it. 

 

“Shit! The fucking skin’s burnt off.” He pulled out his wand. “ _Episkey_.” 

 

I scrutinized my newly treated palms. The skin was a little raw, but had mostly returned to normal. “Who cares about getting injured when magic can just fix it that quickly?” I shrugged.

 

“I care.” Liam lowered his brow sternly. “That’s not a good reason to hurt yourself.” 

 

“That’s the best reason to hurt yourself there ever has been.” 

 

He lowered his voice. “Fuck’s got you like this?” 

 

“Told you. I didn’t like the letter.” 

 

“What was so bad about it?” he asked. 

 

“It was from my mother. She had some words for me. Didn’t like them,” I explained briefly. 

 

“So you decided to set it on fire while still holding it?” 

 

“Seemed logical at the time,” I said. 

 

“Well, it wasn’t logical at the time. And it isn’t logical now,” he retorted. “Don’t make me have to worry about you.” 

 

“You don’t have to.” 

 

“I do have to...if you’re doing things like that.” He hid a question in his tone.

 

“I know what you’re asking,” I said. “I don’t usually hurt myself. It’s not like that.” 

 

“Okay, good.”

 

He studied me for a moment and then asked, “Come hang out with me and Al?”

 

I looked over at Al, who had to be pretending not to hear our conversation by that point. “I think I’m going to bed.”

 

He leaned toward me and whispered, “Come on, why won’t you talk to him?” 

 

“You know he doesn’t like me,” I muttered. 

 

“He doesn’t dislike you though! He’s just shy.” 

 

“Look, I can tell he doesn’t want to talk to me, so I won’t disrupt his day,” I said, still trying to keep my voice down.

 

Liam rolled his eyes. “I need you two to be friends. I’m getting tired of splitting my time.” 

 

“You think maybe he can hear us talking about him?” I asked nervously under my breath. 

 

“No, once he starts reading he zones everything out,” he explained. “Right now he most likely doesn’t even realize anyone’s in the room with him.”

 

Liam walked back over to shake Al out of his reverie and talk him into being friends with me. It’s amazing how you can sleep in the same room as someone for four straight years and never really meet them. The most we’d ever spoken was the one time in third year when he ran into me in the doorway, looked down at the ground and mumbled apologies. He quickly took off after that as if too embarrassed to look me in the eye.

 

I was very interested to see how Liam planned to get him to hang out with me. Honestly, I was confused about how exactly Liam and Al became friends in the first place. They certainly didn’t seem at all alike. I looked over at them and Liam gave me an eager thumbs up. I shuddered to think what that could mean. 

 

I bolted into the loo to escape that thoroughly embarrassing scene for a little while. I stood in front of the mirror, clenching and unclenching my fists. I could feel the anxiety mounting in the pit of my stomach. I turned on the faucet, allowing it to run freely. The water would sooth me. I lathered my hands with soap and scrubbed them vigorously.

 

_One._

 

 

I finished the first wash and gave it another go, cleansing the sense of dirtiness I couldn’t shake.  

 

_Two._

 

 

For good measure I gave my hands another scrubbing, finally feeling like I’d gotten rid of that awful sensation for the time being.

 

_Three._

 

I let out a sigh. It was definitely time for bed. Once I was feeling calm I tended to call it a night in order to avoid those times I fretted the hours away staring at the ceiling rather than getting any rest. 

 

Before I could take two steps into the dormitory, Liam darted before me. 

 

“Guess who’s agreed to hang out with us tomorrow,” he said, smile too wide to be a good sign. 

 

“I could take a guess.” My eyes trailed over to Al, predictably absorbed in a book. There was no telling what Liam had in store for tomorrow, but something told me it would be sufficiently awkward for all involved.

**Author's Note:**

> Original Author’s Note: 
> 
> So, I’ve had this chapter written dating back to when I won NaNo in 2014 and all this time I’ve been putting off fully editing it for a variety of reasons. I never felt I was ready to share what is, by far, the most personally meaningful fic I’ve ever written. Until now, that is. 
> 
> Let me know what you think of the first chapter! There should be semi-quick updates as I don’t have to write any of the next 18 or so chapters from scratch. So, if you like this so far you’re in for a ride. 
> 
> Some scattered asides - 
> 
> This story was originally betaed by the wonderful roisin, whose story Year Five shares a universe with this one. Unfortunately, there are no crossovers because of the huge gap of time between the two, but there are little things you might catch if you’ve read that story. That said, it’s not necessary to have read it as I keep the story self contained and explain everything here! 
> 
> The title of this chapter, ‘The Way We Get By’ is a song by Spoon. 
> 
> ao3 Author's note: I hope you all like the start of my novel! It's a work in progress, but it's progressing.


End file.
